


"Who's Gonna Hold His Hand Now?"

by sarahlizaparker



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 07:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2499662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahlizaparker/pseuds/sarahlizaparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot, drabble. "However, when the Doctor would open his eyes, all he would see was an empty bed." Set after Doomsday, but before the return of Rose in the 4th series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Who's Gonna Hold His Hand Now?"

**Author's Note:**

> This fic goes greatly with these musical pieces: Atonement by Dario Marianelli, Adagio for Strings, Fanfare for The Common Man, Wave by Beck, Rose's Theme by Murray Gold, and Doomsday by Murray Gold.

The Doctor saw her every night after he returned to the Tardis from an adventure or two. She never stopped returning to him. In his dreams she would hold his hand and smile at him, making him awake in such a confused state that he expected her to be in her old room sound asleep.

The Tardis had turned her old room into a sort of memorial for her: to be lost for forever to him. Her bed remained in the state of mess she left it; with her phone that she had never used to call her mum on her night stand.

He would stand at the foot of her bed, with his hands in his trench’s pockets, just wondering how a person could mean so much and be gone so quickly. It never changed. He always moved on, leaving them behind. But he would admit Rose was different in so many ways. He had cared about all of his companions, each one special to him, and each forever a part of him. But Rose was infinite, and her love was infinite for him, and he knew that. He knew she would never give up finding a way to come back to him, just like he would do the same. But he knew there was nothing she could do, and there was nothing he could do. Rose would live the rest of her life concentrated on him, and that was what really upset the Doctor most of all, he thought.

The Doctor had always wanted Rose to be happy.                                          

_“Have a fantastic life.”_

But now he knew she would never be happy without him, and she was now sentenced to perpetual sorrow, something he had grown accustomed to.

Just by knowing him, Rose would never have a fantastic life and be condemned to a life of mourning.

In the first short period of time after, he thought about how Rose would be perfectly fine in her new life: with her mother and father and Mickey. She would barely notice his absence in her contentment of having her father in her life.

But the Doctor finally realized that he was selfish in thinking that. He was dreaming of Rose in such a happy manner, in order to make himself feel as though none of this was his fault. That everything that had happened was good for her, and she is better off without him. But in reality, he knew she would never be the same. A part of her was left behind with him, and she in turn received a part of him.

He loved her. Something he had never felt before with the others. Not just a fondness, but a bond that would survive even after her death and until the end of time. She made him feel pain and loss and melancholy, something he knew would never depart him because he would never see the light in her eyes again.

So, the Doctor continued to stand in front of her bed, hands in his pockets, remembering what she looked like when he woke up her, all dewy and soft. She’d yawn and shove at him, trying to urge him to leave her so she could be acceptable for his eyes, even though she had no idea that in those moments he would try and soak in as much as her as possible to carry with him perpetually.

Rose Tyler was never immortal. She would never be. He told her to _“never say never, ever”_ , but in this case it was the truth that the both of them would never have admitted before: the fact that he would move on without her.

Knowing she was alive in the parallel world should have been enough for him. She would wake up every morning and continue to breathe, something he was always worried would cease as she continued to journey through time and space with him, becoming one with the danger.

But no, it was never enough. He would never get to witness her smile again; never get to revel in her accomplishments.

The Doctor supposed Donna Noble is what he needed in that time period after Rose, but when Donna touched Rose’s purple jacket, something inside of him twisted and turned as he was reminded that she was truly gone and that that very jacket would never been worn by Rose ever again. Rose would get a new jacket, and perhaps even forget about the purple one.

Yet, the Doctor would always treasure the jacket for what is truly was: something to remind him of her, something he could cling to in a moment of anguish and solitude. Because, that is what his life was like now without her: torment.

He would never let Martha or Donna glimpse the inside of Rose’s room, or anyone for that matter. Rose’s room was now his sanctuary. He would stand at the foot of her bed and close his eyes, and sometimes, if he tried hard enough, he could catch a whiff of her, or feel her hand wrap around his arm.

However, when the Doctor would open his eyes, all he would see was an empty bed. 

The Doctor would often times have to choose how to see Rose in his memories. Would he see her fingers loosing grip of that lever and disappearing from him? Or would he see her as the Bad Wolf? Something so beautiful and powerful he could but help but still get chills from the light that encompassed her so perfectly it was as though Rose Tyler was the Tardis and the Tardis is Rose Tyler.

Maybe that’s why the Doctor loved, nay, loves her so. The Tardis is his eternal companion, and every time he hears the sound she makes as she arrives and departs he cannot help but imagine Rose standing next to him. 

He would never understand why she cared for him so much--so much to risk her life time and time again to stay with him. The Doctor knew she would never understand, or fully accept, why they couldn’t spend eternity together. Perhaps what happened that day was for the best. It finally forced Rose into accepting what she could not change.

He would live long after her demise, and she would cease to hold his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! LLAP and review!


End file.
